Arya had finally found his resolve to fight and improve. His revenge won't come with him getting Mercy and other people do the work for him, improvement is needed.
He needed a more clear idea of what was indeed to be done, but that was for later.
He sat back straight again, and opened Salazar's book of magic, "I will need to fight warlords in the future it is better to prepare myself from them now." Arya began his writings on the warlords, from where he left at first.
"2. The one with 9-12 orbs of power- These warlords are very high in power in comparison to the first category. The strength and ability of the warlord get the largest enhancement in this phase. Also, the warlord unlocks a powerful ability called realm when given acquiring their orbs."
"We will discuss realms later, but these are different worlds a warlord can carry other people to. How many people he can carry depends on how much aura refinement, not the number of orbs he has. The reasoning is still unknown."
Arya realised how important aura refinement is, the limits of spells and strength are greatly limited to how one masters his aura.
"I understand why they don't give libraries to folks. They will be rebelling on every decision and fighting to destroy everything if they realise this book." People who tried to were labelled as heretics anyway.
Arya read ahead to the third category,
"3. 14 to 17 orbs of power- These warlords are the highest the world has seen, only three people are recorded to have that many orbs of power. Two were born as such and one was able to acquire 2 orbs of power. These details have been studied further in the book."
"The warlord's magical abilities see exponential growth in the phase, while physical ability remains the same. Aura control seems to refine itself automatically, and it can be further enhanced. Their warlord gains something they call a 'Star Spell', like its name it shines like stars among spells."
"4. 18 to 20 orbs of power- There had been no case of any warlord like this. It is unknown to most people as to why among the thousand warlords, no one is ever born with more than 17 orbs of power."
Arya stopped writing at that moment, he sighed and took a break. Trying to think why that could be? Was there a relation between the number of orbs and any other circumstances?
"..." Then Arya realised there was an extra box of text at the bottom of the screen,
"There is a direct relationship between the length of lives of the warlord and the number of orbs at birth. As I wrote earlier, the two warlords born to have acquired 17 orbs killed each other at the young ages of 18 and 20. I can suggest the idea that babies with more than 17 orbs die after the two years of immortality granted by god."
This weirdly hit Arya's screws, he was feeling more happy for a second. Did having one orb promise him a longer life of something, is that way he was lucky enough to survive till now?
"Doesn't matter. Don't want a long life, it is this trash." Arya closed down his book and collected his pages. He put them in a drawer and placed all of the books back.
He felt like a changed person from what he was... 2 hours ago?!
"How did it take me this long to work on all this?" Arya looked out of the window and realised that the sun was out and kids were playing once again, when did that happen?
He fixed his face, came out of his room and walked downstairs to the dinner table.
At the table, Mercy was eating his boiled broccoli with a fork, and Ana was sitting beside him. There were bottles of blood placed on the table and Anastasia was looking very tense.
"Good morning, Mercy." "Good morning, Arya."
Arya walked in from the side and sat on the table. He noticed that Ana got a bit stiffer as a result of the early morning fight, but he needed to talk regardless.
"So, Ana was telling me that you and River were having a little argument a while earlier?" Mercy spoke calmly while eating his food.
"We did get into one.. but it was not a fight." Arya knew Mercy was younger than him in age, he was barely 20 from the looks, but his voice and way of speaking commanded authority.
"It doesn't matter anyway, tiny fights do build friendships. Just keep yourself out of a misunderstanding about each other, that thing can cost lives later." He wasn't much bothered by the fight.
"I understand, but you might be interested in telling what these vials of blood are doing here?"Three vials filled with blood which was one of the most light in colour that Arya had ever seen, maybe it belonged to a poisoned person.
"I will get to that part, but first answer my question, Arya. Do you want to become stronger?" Mercy turned to Arya.
That caught Arya off-guard could Mercy read his mind? Nonetheless, he answered with honesty.
"I want to become stronger. After what happened yesterday, I don't think I'll be able to completely achieve anything unless I try to increase my strength. There is no hope for me to survive in a battle against the warlords." Arya showed his resolve.
"Count me in that one."
The entire table looked to their right and saw Reva walk out in her blue-white dress and a handkerchief tied to her head. She had lost all her hair due to poison and was covering it up.
'Reva! Are you alright?" Arya got from his chair, but Reva singled her to sit. Her face had more dark circles and she looked a bit paler than before.
Reva took her beside Ana, who smiled at her and she smiled back. Ana had been the only one in contact with Reva when she locked herself away.
"Mercy, you were talking about getting stronger right now? I want to become stronger too, I can't hunt beasts who nearly got killed by a ground rat. I need more strength. I suppose Arya believes the same." Reva looked into the eyes of Arya.
"I betrayed her." The memory struck inside Arya's head that very moment. He turned his eyes away.
He nodded to Reva as an answer, "Yes, I want to become stronger, too."
Mercy smiled at their response, "I see that all three of you have chosen to become stronger."
"Three?" Reva and Arya eye Ana, "I am promised a crown, too. So, I need to be strong enough to hold it when I sit on the throne, if I can't command strength then I'll just be the puppet of those who are stronger than me." Ana waved it off.
"The three of you can become strong, but do you want to do it the easy or the hard way?" Mercy pointed at the bottles of blood ahead of them.
"Nothing comes from easy work. I am ready to go the hard way." Reva answered, Ana and Arya also nodded with her.
"Then let it be like that, prepare your bones to go through hell. First, all three of you drink that blood." Mercy got and placed each vial of blood ahead of the three.
"Shouldn't you suggest some training or something? I want to train my body, not be powerful using supplements." Arya argued.
"Would you mind telling us whose blood is this Mercy? I am not getting the healthiest feeling seeing it." Ana held the vial of blood and it felt like was trying to escape from the vial.
Reva chooses to stay quiet and looks straight at Mercy's smile.
"I have a plan on how things will work from now. Each of you needs to master different things, not the same. This blood is a sample, raw and pure of that from what you will be taking from tomorrow. Those who can drink this without vomiting go for the hard way, the ones who can't go easy. Now, drink." Mercy set the agreement straight.
Arya picked up the vial of blood, and Reva and Ana followed him. The three took a breath of resolve and drank the entire bottle in one sip.
"..." Arya waited for a pain to come up his spine or maybe the taste was too bad, but it wasn't like that. Sort of nothing happened, it felt bland and simple.
"That was tasty. Is it some fruit juice instead of blood?" Reva asked.
"I think it was more like sugary water, a bit sweet but nothing tasty," Ana commented.
"Who did you like it, Arya did you feel any sweetness or maybe bitterness in this case?" Mercy asked.
"Nothing, it felt bland. It was not sw-" Then the choking began.
"Arya.. Arya, are you okay?!" Reva got up from his seat. "Don't move, Reva. This is his test." Mercy ordered her to sit.
The vomit rose up to Arya's thought and it felt like he had eaten some insects. He fell from his chair, gasping for air. He pressed his neck trying to push down the crawling insects, but they rose higher and higher...
"Aaaagh.." He began the stitches, his legs and arms felt like hundreds of needles pierced him each second, and felt he wanted to scratch every last part of his body, but the worms on the neck left him.
"I need to hold..." He tried to hold it, but it wasn't holdable for him.
His body relaxed too soon and his neck gave up trying to block the vomit and the red blood came leaking out of his mouth.
"Aahh!!" The pain didn't stop there, the needles and itching continued.
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